


Chase These Fault Lines

by accidentallymelted



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Other, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallymelted/pseuds/accidentallymelted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beau never told anyone about the threads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chase These Fault Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to HelenOrvana for looking this over (and also prompting it, and then reminding me about it later - basically this whole thing was her idea).

Beau never told anyone about the threads.

He tried, once or twice when he was younger, but his parents didn’t seem to understand what he was saying so he gave up. He was a little confused, though, because everyone else had only one thread, and he had two - one on each hand. They both went off in around the same direction, though, so he didn’t really worry about it.

It took him a while to figure out what they were - there were a lot that connected people who were married, but there were also some married people who had two different threads. The ones who had two different threads (or, in some cases that made Beau shiver, no threads at all) didn’t last very long. He learned not to say anything when his friends asked him what he thought about their girlfriends - none of them had the same thread, so it was obvious (to him) that they wouldn’t end up together, but no one wanted to hear that. He got punched a lot before he figured out how to keep his mouth shut.

Both of Beau’s threads were very thin, so thin they were almost white, which he thought meant that the people on the other ends were very far away. He wasn’t too broken up about it, though - he had his own life to live, and he was happy. And there was hockey, which was better than dating anyway.

Sometimes threads changed, as the people on the other ends moved around. Beau woke up one morning and both of his threads stretched off in the exact same direction, which confused him. One of them had always been a little thinner and more stretched-looking than the other, but now both of them were exactly the same. He spent a couple of minutes trying to figure out what it could mean before he mentally shrugged and went back to not thinking about it. He had other things to worry about anyway.

He idly kept one eye on his threads after that, and mostly they stayed exactly the same. Sometimes they split up - during the summer, the one that had always looked thin went back to looking thin and stretched, but it always shortened back up again in the fall. He wasn’t worried about them.

He started paying them more attention when he got drafted by the Pittsburgh Penguins, especially when he showed up to prospect camp and saw that one of his threads had thickened and turned red. The other was its usual thin and stretched self, but this one. . .

. . . Led directly to Sidney Crosby, who had showed up to prospect camp to greet all of the prospective players personally. Beau almost swallowed his tongue. Crosby also had two threads, he noticed once he pulled himself out of his daze and paid attention. The other one led off in exactly the same way Beau’s did, and looked just as thin and stretched. Beau very deliberately didn’t think about it but he did put forth his absolute best effort. Not that he wouldn’t have anyway, but he really wanted to impress Sid in particular for reasons he was _absolutely not thinking about._

He didn’t make the team. He swallowed down the disappointment firmly and went to college instead, worked on improving his game. The NHL had always been his goal - now there was just a little extra incentive.

He got called up eventually, and he had to admit that at least a little bit of his excitement at that was the fact that he would see Sid again. They hadn’t really talked that much, the last time - Sid had introduced himself, they’d talked a little about hockey, and that had been that. Beau was nervous but excited, going into his first practice with the team, especially since both of his threads had thickened up and turned red.

When he walked into the locker room, he stopped dead. One of his threads led straight to Sid, as he’d expected. The other led straight to Evgeni Malkin, who was watching his hands with a puzzled look. He glanced up, seeming to follow the thread, until his eyes met Beau’s.

_Shit_ , Beau thought distinctly.

He made it through practice on autopilot, his head still buzzing with the knowledge that his soulmates were _Sidney Crosby_ and _Evgeni Malkin_. Coach seemed to be experimenting with putting him on Geno’s wing, and they were clicking. Beau was a little in awe that this was his life.

As he was leaving the locker room after practice, Geno came up behind him and flung one long arm around his shoulders. “Beau! You come with me, new linemate bonding,” he said, and pulled Beau out to his car. Beau protested, but Geno ignored him and Beau gave up, strapping himself into the car.

When they pulled up in Geno’s driveway, another car was already there. Sid was leaning up against the car, frowning at his phone. As they got out of the car he transferred his frown to them. “Geno? What did you need to talk to me about?” He shot Beau a quick look. “What’s he doing here?”

“Is what we need to talk about, Sid,” Geno said, gesturing at Beau. “He has red threads.”

Sid tilted his head and pursed his lips. “You told me everyone had them.”

“Has _our_ threads,” Geno clarified, and Sid’s eyes sharpened on Beau’s face. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he settled for waving weakly.

“You’re sure?” Sid asked Geno, and Beau frowned.

“Hey,” he said. They ignored him so he repeated himself, a little louder this time. “Hey!” They turned to look at him and he folded his arms over his chest. “It’s true,” he said. “I do have your threads. I can see them too,” he said, in response to Geno’s inquiring noise. “I can prove it, if you want - Neal and Martin. Hall and Eberle.” Sid looked startled but Geno’s eyes had narrowed and he looked thoughtful.

“See, Sid,” he murmured eventually. “Has our threads.”

Sid tilted his head and looked Beau over, causing Beau to flush. “I guess I can see it,” he said eventually. “And it’s not like he’s _bad_ at hockey.”

“Hey,” Beau said weakly, but Geno just laughed.

“From Sid, is compliment,” he assured Beau. “So. Now, we date.” He nodded, looking pleased with himself. Beau looked over at Sid, who gave him a tiny shrug and a tinier smile.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he said, and turned to head into the house. “You’re cooking, I’m starving,” he said to Geno, who tossed his head back and laughed. Beau lingered for a moment outside, marveling again that this was his life.

“This is gonna be so great,” he said, grinning, and followed them inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Our Song" by Matchbox Twenty, although it was almost "Welcome To The First Day (Of The Rest Of Your Life)," which I'm pretty sure is also from a song but I can't remember which one at the moment. 
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies - I own nothing, I make no money, nothing is true, etc, etc. I can also be found at accidentallymelted on Tumblr, where I reblog a lot of random things and sometimes post writing updates, fic snippets or requests for prompts. Feel free to come say hi!


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